


Don't Let The Guitarist Stay Up Late; the story of the only time Slash missed Izzy's curfew and suffered the consequences

by GothBunny



Series: My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [3]
Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Duff should really respect his friend's curfew, Figging, M/M, Pastel Slash, Power Dynamics, Slash is a naughty boy, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothBunny/pseuds/GothBunny
Summary: Slash accidentally stays out with his buddies too late and sends Izzy into a panic. Izzy retaliates with some pretty harsh punishments.
Relationships: Slash/Izzy Stradlin
Series: My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585123
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Don't Let The Guitarist Stay Up Late; the story of the only time Slash missed Izzy's curfew and suffered the consequences

The clock above the fireplace read three-fifteen. Exactly three hours and forty-five minutes past the time Slash had to be home. Needless to say, Izzy was not letting him go out at night again for a very long time. Not that he didn’t trust Duff and Steven to take care of his baby, but they were proving themselves very untrustworthy. The longer Slash took to get home, the longer Izzy had to get increasingly worried, and therefore the longer he had to get increasingly pissed off. He considered calling Duff again, but figured it would probably be useless. So instead he sat in his faded-green, corduroy chair, smoking a cigarette and staring at the front door. The ashtray already held the burned-out remains of the previous two cigarettes that he had smoked over the course of waiting for Slash to get home. 

The front door opened almost silently, as though Slash figured that since all the lights in the house were turned off that Izzy must have gone to sleep and he would get away with staying out almost four hours past the curfew they had both agreed on. Izzy watched in calm silence as Slash carefully pulled off his pink vinyl Doc Martin’s and set them on the bench next to the door, the only light coming from the burning end of Izzy’s cigarette and the headlights of a car outside. Izzy hoped that car was a taxi and not Duff driving after a long night of drinking. He stubbed his cigarette out against the ashtray.

“You’re late.” Izzy’s voice rang cold and hard throughout the living room and Slash’s head snapped up. “Do you know what time it is?”

“No?” Slash didn’t sound drunk, which was good, but then again, Izzy didn’t really expect him too. For the most part, aside from the occasional fruity cocktail, Slash wasn’t really that big on drinking or drugs. Unless you considered five to six creme sodas a day a drinking habit. Izzy was more angry at the fact that Slash was late.

“It’s three twenty-eight. Do you remember what time you were supposed to be back?”

“Eleven thirty?” Slash peeped out, looking guilty. 

Izzy stood up and pointed towards the stairs. “Go to our room and wait for me there. I hope I don’t have to stress how badly you’ve disobeyed me tonight.” 

Slash scurried up the stairs. Izzy sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing a paring knife and opening the fridge. He was pretty sure that the ginger he had bought two days ago was still in the vegetable drawer. It had been purchased with the intention of being used in stir-fry but he could just buy another hand of it later. Finding it, he followed Slash upstairs, bringing both the knife and the ginger with him. He also grabbed a wooden paddle from the hall closet. Izzy wondered what his mother would say about the fact that he kept a large collection of sex toys with his towels and bedsheets. 

When he entered the bedroom, he found Slash sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers twisting at the corner of the fluffy, pink sweater-hoodie he was wearing. Izzy ignored him, going over to the desk and sitting down, placing the ginger, the knife, and the paddle down in a row before finally turning to look at Slash. Slash looked at the innocent hand of ginger, eyes widening in fear, then looked back at Izzy. Izzy almost felt bad, then he remembered that he had spent four hours worrying about Slash’s safety and he no longer felt bad.

“You understand why I have to do this, right Saul? 

“Yeah.” Slash’s fingers paused in their twisting at the corner of the hoodie, though his eyes remained downcast and pearly teeth began tugging nervously at his lower lip. He opened his mouth to add something, then seemed to think better of it and returned to twisting the hem of the fluffy sweater.

Sitting down at the desk while still keeping his gaze on Slash, Izzy began to peel and carve the ginger into roughly the shape of a butt-plug. It wasn’t a piece of art by any means, Izzy was no artist, but then again it didn’t really need to be. It just needed to be smooth on the outside and have a flared base so it wouldn’t get stuck. Also, he needed to finish carving it before all the juice inside of the ginger leached into the air and ruined it. 

“I’m really, really sorry Izzy.” Apparently, Slash had reached his limit of watching Izzy silently prepare his punishment. “I tried to keep track of time, I swear I did, but there weren’t any clocks or anything at any of the bars we went to and Duff and Steven kept saying we had plenty of time to get back and that just one more bar wouldn’t hurt anybody and I didn’t really want to take a taxi back alone. I’m really sorry Izzy, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Izzy sighed, setting down the paring knife and picking up the paddle. “An apology after the fact doesn’t change that I spent four hours worrying about where you were or what could have happened to you that caused you to be out so late. How the hell am I supposed to keep you safe if it’s three o’clock in the morning and I have no idea where you are?” 

“I understand Izzy.” 

“Good, then let’s get this over with and then we can cuddle or whatever, alright?”

“Okay.” Slash pulled off the oversized sweater-hoodie then went on to tug off the white skinny jeans he had been wearing, yanking his underwear and socks off along with them. He then lay down on the bed, stomach pressed into the quilted blanket and hands squeezing a pillow to his chest. 

Setting paddle down next to Slash on the bed, Izzy gave the boy what was supposed to be a comforting pat. “I’m gonna go with six spanks, and I want you to count them for me. If you mess up the counting, I’m gonna start over, understand?” Hence, Izzy’s use of the ginger. It wouldn’t work as punishment if Slash liked it. Izzy picked up the paddle again. “I’m gonna start now, okay?” 

Izzy let the first blow fall against Slash’s ass and watched as Slash yelped out a pained “one”, automatically clenching before he remembered the ginger. Izzy hadn’t given the hardest possible hit ever, but it wasn’t a light one either. He only had six, each one had to count.

The second blow was a little harder than the first. Slash was still able to articulate the number two, but it was accompanied by some heavy panting.

When Izzy let the third blow fall, Slash took a few seconds to catch his breath before rasping out “three” and whimpering into the fabric of the pillow.

The fourth blow was as hard as Izzy could possibly make it and he pulled the paddle up immediately in order to make it sting as much as possible. This time Slash let out a scream, but he still managed a weak “four” afterward. 

The fifth blow was just as awful as the fourth. It was hard to tell if what Slash had screamed resembled the word “five” enough to count, but tears were freely running down Slash’s cheeks at this point and his face was screwed up in pain. Izzy decided not to be mean and let it slide. 

Izzy landed the sixth and final blow, pressing the paddle into Slash’s ass even after the polished wood made contact, in order to make the pain resonate and to try and jostle the ginger so it scraped against the inner walls of Slash’s entrance and burned even more. Slash may or may not have counted this blow, but Izzy didn’t particularly care. After a few moments, he set the paddle back on the desk and went to carefully remove the ginger. Slash’s ass looked red and angry, and it crossed Izzy’s mind that most of the marks he had left would likely bruise. He tried to pull out the ginger buttplug as gently as he could, but there was no preventing all of the pain. Slash whimpered soundlessly into the pillows and Izzy tried to place a comforting kiss above his tailbone before throwing the ginger in the wastebasket.

“Do you want me to stay and cuddle with you or do you want me to leave, Sweetheart?” Slash usually wanted cuddles, but sometimes after punishments he liked to be left alone and Izzy always asked.

“Stay” was whispered out, muffled by cotton sheets and feather stuffed pillows.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” Izzy stripped off his black jeans and lightweight button-down, then carefully slid into bed next to Slash, running thin fingers through his dark curls. 

“Look at me, Sweetheart.” Slash rolled onto his side, dark wet-looking eyes looking up into Izzy’s now-comforting brown ones. Izzy pushed some of the curls back, trying to get a better view and Slash’s lower lip trembled. Deciding not to comment on it, Izzy pressed a kiss to the top of Slash’s head, pulling him closer.

“I’m really, really sorry Izzy.” Slash was clinging to his arms and Izzy tried to re-adjust their position so that Slash was now lying on top of him.

“I know, Sweetheart, I’m not mad. I was just worried about you.” Izzy combed his fingers through Slash’s hair, savoring the feeling of the ringlets separating between his fingers.

“‘S just, you’re the only one who’s ever cared if I make it home on time and you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to care and I let you down and I’m sorry.” Slash sniffled again.

“Shhhh…” Slash was starting to work himself up and Izzy tried to comfort him before he worked himself into a panic. “Shhhh… I’m not mad Sweetheart, of course I care about you coming home, I love you, you know that don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Good. Because it’s true. Now, how about we go to sleep since it’s nearly four in the morning, alright Sweetheart?” Izzy’s fingers stilled in Slash’s hair and drifted down to rest gently on his lower back.

“Okay, Izzy.”

“Okay.”


End file.
